Exercise blues

I'm doing it. Don't go there, filthy people.

I'm exercising. Our gym finally opened and I'm back at it. Doin' the elliptical, the recumbent bike, the ski machine, lifting weights. I can barely type this, my arms are so sore. Don't even think about touching me. I hurt in places I didn't even know could hurt. At least sitting down doesn't hurt. That is the worst feeling. Can't even sit on the toilet without wincing. I've been there. But that was when I had a really great teacher who worked us to shreds. We looked good. We worked hard. I want to get back there. Maybe.

I've lost 11 pounds so far. And holding. It's a slow road now. Those first few days where I was losing all that water weight. That was fun. Now, it's torture. But at least I'm not hungry.

Had veggie soup with a little pesto stirred in for lunch, along with cherry tomatoes from my garden with fresh mozzarella balls and I'm supposed to eat a salad that has some roasted chicken in it, sunflower seeds, carrots, peps and lettuce. I'm full. Think I may save the salad. Is that even possible? To be full?

I think it was all the contraband crackers I had last night during wine night. Bad, bad influence, you wine ladies. Too much wine, lots of laughing and some crackers. I'd say it was a good night!

Weighing crap

This post is going to be gross. I'm just warning you. Just in case you are eating or thinking about eating or just finished eating. Which is where I am most of the day. You've been warned.

It's day....what day is it? How long have I been doing this crap? This eating right and eating veggies first and being good? How long? Right, three weeks, I think. I have lost and gained the same pound over the last week and half. I am getting frustrated. I'm a making deals with myself and the universe. I am getting on the scale naked, like my 1 ounce nightgown will make a HUGE difference in how much I weigh each morning. It's all a mind game.

And so, we come to the gross portion. It's a crazy busy morning. I got up to weigh myself first thing. Same stupid number staring at me that has been staring at me for the last week (give or take a half pound - up, down, up, down). I go back to bed, deflated. When I finally do wake up, it's after 7. We're late.

Kids get up, drag themselves downstairs and get breakfast. Or more like, I get them breakfast while they ponder what to pack for lunch. I haven't eaten breakfast because I'm trying to calm down my oldest who freaked out when she saw what time it was when she got up (for the record, she was out the door, dressed, with her lunch packed on time). I start packing lunches and decide it's time for a trip to the bathroom. You know, the morning constitutional, as my husband says. Maybe it's a different time of day for you. But mornings are productive here.

Usually I have eaten my breakfast by now. You can't weigh yourself after you've eaten breakfast. That's not allowed. You might weigh a whole pound more with those four egg whites and few sips of water sitting like a lead weight in your stomach. But this morning, I haven't eaten. I do my duty. (I'm trying to be cool here.) I think, well, that was surely worth something off at the scale. Do you feel the desperation here? I get on the scale, naked of course. Close my eyes, wishing, wishing, wishing for some sign that I am doing things right...and Whammo, sure enough, half a pound gone. Seriously. Half a pound of crap. That's a lot of crap. (I told you it was going to be gross).

But I'll take it. I need it. Just that one half pound put me past another ten pound mark. I'm in a different bracket now. I'll take it, no matter how gross it is. That is my half pound I earned.

Now I'm off to the gym. Maybe I can sweat more off. I'll see tomorrow.

And again, apologies for the gross content. Really, you can't make this shit up! hee, hee.